Chapter 7
Keefe stood in the open doorway at the back of his kitchen, a fresh cup of coffee cradled between his hands.
Inside, Bess purred like a contented cat, gleaming, and already earning her keep while the fryers hummed low.
The first signals of the day’s rhythm winding up.
Everything was working like it should and running smoothly.
The pub was closed for now, Ginny was still tucked upstairs, and Sophie—fresh off her honeymoon—would be in soon.
He glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall.
She would be arriving any minute now. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed his sister.
Things always felt a bit flat without her around—which would be the case more often now that she was married.
There was a time when this was his favorite time of day. He used to crave the stillness, the promise tucked inside the quiet before the chaos kicked in, before the orders rolled in fast and hot, before the place was filled with voices.
Now it just reminded him how quiet his own damn life had become. God, he’d never been so restless.
He should be content. Proud, even. O’Brian’s Taproom was thriving. He finally had his own place, made his own rules. The kitchen was exactly the kind of operation he'd dreamed about running back when he was scrubbing pots and shadowing chefs half his age.
Most people would say he had it all. But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.
He wanted someone to share it with.
Working in the kitchen, he could forget his loneliness. It was coming home after a day’s work that got to him—no wife, no children. Hell, not even a cat.
Ugh. And to make it worse, today was Sunday. After tonight, they’d be closed for three days.
Swell. He would have three whole days all to himself.
Alone. Again.
Instinctively, he brought his fingers to his lips. Damn. No cigarette. Brooding didn’t feel like proper brooding without one. He’d quit ages ago, but if he’d known he’d be going this long without the company of a woman, he might have held on to the habit a little longer.
Understandably, he’d taken a break while he poured everything he had into getting this place up and running. The search for Miss Right had been put on hold—not forever. He just hadn’t expected the pause to last this long… or to feel this lonely.
He shifted his grip on the mug, jaw clenched.
And now? He kept waking up every morning on the wrong side of the bed—the empty side. It had been too long since he’d felt the heat of a woman’s skin under his hand, tangled in his sheets.
But it wasn’t just sex he missed. He missed having a female presence around.
Someone he could talk to, spend time with doing anything or nothing at all.
He didn’t need a big, dramatic love story.
Just someone to share the quiet with. Someone who would steal his shirts and fall asleep on the sofa while he cleaned up.
Someone who gave a damn if he came home or didn’t.
Someone he could cook for just for the sheer pleasure of seeing her smile.
Was that really so much to ask?
At least it was shaping up to be a sunny summer morning.
As he continued sipping his coffee, he mulled over the day’s special.
Since it was Sunday, something rich and comforting felt right—his flaky-crust game pie.
The kind of dish that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.
After all, Ginny had said it was the sort of thing that could win a woman’s heart. Might as well give it a try.
And for dessert? Lemon raspberry sorbet. Light, fresh, with just the right kiss of tartness. The perfect note to end on—sweet, but with a little spark.
Out in front of him, beneath the leafy trees, three magpies were chattering away in their usual obnoxious fashion.
The same trio had joined him for coffee all week, like they thought they were part of the staff.
He muttered the old rhyme under his breath: “One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy…”
The magpies kept up their raspy chatter, ignoring him completely.
“Yeah, well, how about one of you bring me a girl instead of ruining my morning peace with all your racket?” he grumbled, raising his mug in mock toast. “Feck off.”
Fair play to them, though—they were more punctual than his part-time staff. Still, he wouldn’t be opposed to tossing the obnoxious birds into the game pie.
He shook his head and took another sip from his cup—then heard the front door open.
A smile curled at his lips.
His sister was back.
Sophie unlocked the front door of the pub and breathed in, then exhaled. She paused just past the threshold, letting the familiar scent of wood polish, malt, and roasted coffee hit her like a welcome-home hug.
It was good to be back.
Her honeymoon with Liam had been a dream, of course. No honeymoon had ever been more romantic or more meaningful. But there was something about this place—its creaky floors, and years of laughter soaked into the walls—that wrapped itself around her heart.
She crossed the floor and laid her hand on the bar.
“Hello, old girl. Did you miss me?” Great. Now she was talking to the place like Keefe did.
“About damn time!”
She turned just in time to see her twin pass through the kitchen door, a dish towel slung over one shoulder and a grin stretching across his face. He didn’t slow down before wrapping her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground.
“I missed you,” he said into her hair. “It’s been dead boring without you here.”
Sophie laughed, squeezing him just as tight. “You mean you missed someone telling you what to do.”
Smiling wide, he pulled back to look at her. “No. I just missed my sister. But don’t let it go to your head.”
Keefe set her back down and took a step back, giving her an exaggerated once-over. It had been ages since he’d seen that look on her face—pure, unfiltered contentment.
“Being Mrs. Gallagher agrees with you,” he said. “You look great. Must be all that artist sex and Greek sunshine.”
Without missing a beat, “Why thank you,” she said fluffing her hair.
She dug into her bag and pulled out a squat bottle with a dark blue label and a crooked cork.
“I brought you something. Don’t ask me to pronounce it, but it’s from a tiny shop in Santorini where the shopkeeper insisted it would either bless your liver or destroy it entirely. ”
Keefe took the bottle reverently, holding it up to the light. “Now that’s a proper honeymoon souvenir.”
“Figured you deserved it. You held down the fort.” She glanced around the pub, and her chest tightened with affection. “It’s good to be home.”
“It’s good to have you back. Where’s Liam?”
“He’s back at the house. His mother ambushed us the moment we stepped off the plane. He kept her busy while I made a break for it. So, how did it go here without me? Was it chaos?”
“Not at all. Ginny and I handled everything with grace and style.” His voice was much too confident.
“That doesn’t sound comforting.” It sounded like a line made up to veil the truth. “Did something happen? What did you and Ginny get up to?”
“Do I hear my name taken in vain?” said Ginny from the stairway.
She appeared with a smile on her face and when she saw Sophie, rushed to her, and tripped over her own two feet.
She would have landed face flat on the floor but Keefe caught her.
“Thank you,” she said to Keefe looking fondly up into his eyes.
“I swear it’s like some days I can’t even walk and chew gum at the same time.
” Then she turned her attention back to Sophie.
“You’re back! I’m so excited!” Before Sophie got a word in edgeways Ginny continued.
“Keefe showed me the pictures you sent. Greece looks so beautiful! Oh my god that sunrise you took a picture of! I hope I go there someday. Was it hot? I bet it was hot. How was the food? Was it good? I bet it was good. How’s Liam?
Is he here too? Did you have any of that drink they have there?
You know, that disgusting stuff that tastes like ass? ”
“Anise,” Keefe corrected.
“I know what I said.” Ginny playfully nudged Keefe with her elbow and he chuckled.
If Keefe hadn’t interrupted, Ginny would’ve bombarded Sophie with questions until her ears fell off. For that, she was grateful. But just what the actual hell was that flirty moment between them?
“I’ll have breakfast ready for us in a jiffy,” said Keefe. “We just need to set the table.”
Sophie let out an exaggerated hunger groan. “I’ve missed your cooking and I’m starving too. Ginny, would you mind getting the plates?”
“Oh, sure! Of course, I will. I’ll be right back in a jiffy. Now don’t say anything about Greece until I get back, you promise?”
“I promise.” Sophie shook her head a little and laughed. The moment Ginny was out of earshot in the kitchen Sophie grabbed her brother by the ear and dragged him into the snug.
“Ow! Easy! What the hell, Soph?”
“What the hell is right! Just what the hell was that look I saw between you and Ginny?” she demanded in a harsh whisper.
“What look?”
“And that nudge she gave you! What the hell is going on between you two?” She should have seen this coming. He’d been lonely for ages now and of course something would start up with Ginny. She was adorable and right under his nose.
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing? It didn’t look like nothing!”
“Nothing.”
“It’d better be nothing! She’s my best waitress and so help me Jesus if you mess that up, I’ll?—”
“Calm down, killer. You don’t have to worry. Nothing happened.”
“You swear?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. There was maybe a little, tiny moment—but nothing happened and nothing’s going to happen. Okay?”
“A moment? What kind of moment?” she hissed.
“It was nothing, I keep telling you. Ginny twisted her ankle is all and I helped her.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t “all” but there was no need to rile his sister up more so than she was.
Sophie knew damn well there was more to that story, but she was willing to drop it—seeing as she’d only been back for a mere five minutes.
Why start a fight now? “Fine. But make sure it doesn’t become something,” she scolded under her breath, careful that Ginny wouldn’t hear.
“I mean it. Besides she’s not the one for you. ”
“Then who is, Your Majesty?” It pissed him off that Nan had been right about Sophie flipping out.
“I don’t know but it’s not Ginny.”
“I thought you liked Ginny?”
Sophie pointed her finger into his chest hard. “You’re not dating my waitress and that’s that.”
Keefe rolled his eyes and plucked her finger out of his chest. “Fine. Aunt Nan said the same thing anyway so you don’t need to get your panties in a wad.
But you had better find me someone then.
Ginny thinks I’m rather charming actually.
I don’t know how long she’ll be able to control herself around me. ”
He chuckled and winked but Sophie knew he was only half teasing. The conversation they had had about him being lonely and her finding him someone came to the front of her mind.
Sophie had gone three glorious weeks without thinking about that deal she made with her brother to find him a girlfriend. She could have gone a lifetime without ever thinking about that conversation again. And the fact that he was actually serious made it so much worse.
Sure! No problemo! I’ll find you Miss Right. This will be easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. It wasn’t gross at all. Surely, the perfect woman would walk straight through their door and voila! Just like magic her brother would have a wife, family and be whole.
And then, with any luck, Sophie’s skin would stop crawling.
“I hate you so bad right now,” Sophie groaned while dragging her hands down her face. “Okay, but there needs to be a time limit on this. I can’t be searching for the rest of my life.”
“Fair enough. Let’s say six months.”
“Six months ?” she blurted. She was thinking six minutes. “Okay, but if I haven’t found anyone in that time, I’m off the hook. Deal or no deal?”
“Deal.”
“But I don’t want to hear anything about it ever again! You swear?”
“You’ll be rewarded in Heaven.”
She didn’t believe him of course and with good reason. He would tease her until the day she died—hopefully sooner rather than later.
Sophie looked like she needed a paper bag to breathe into. But Keefe knew how to calm his sister down. “I’ve got your favorite coffee, blueberry pancakes, and fresh whipped cream—just for you...” he said in a sing-song tone.
“Chocolate whipped cream?”
And just like that his lion of a sister was magically transformed into a cute little bunny. “Of course! Nothing but the best for my favorite sister. Now, come on before Ginny gets suspicious.”
Sophie walked ahead and was about to open the door when Keefe stopped her. “Oh, and Soph?”
“What?”
“I like redheads—but not too skinny. I like a little something to hold onto.”
“EW!”
“And there’s a fruit basket in it for you if she’s a freak in the sheets.”
“Keefe, goddammit I hate you!” She swatted him and stormed out from the snug.